


There Was Darkness

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Paint The Sky With Stars [28]
Category: Night World - Fandom, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witches, Crossover, Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7193789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Multiverse, Any, Long before the birth of light, there was darkness."</p><p>Members of the Atlantis Expedition, past and present, try to figure out the truth behind shapeshifters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Was Darkness

“Long before the birth of light, there was darkness.”  
  
On the word _light_ , the storyteller snapped her fingers, and there was a brief flare. Ancient blue. She had some kind of Ancient LED. On the word _darkness_ , she twisted her wrist, and something like coal dust drifted down from her fingers, falling on the little green cloth she’d laid on the ground in front of her.  
  
Her audience was gathered around her in a semi-circle, listening. Enthralled.  
  
Aiden bit the inside of his cheek so he didn’t smirk at the storyteller’s theatrics, but he’d never had the chance to interact with the Satedans much, few and scattered as they were, and he needed to learn, in case he ever needed to work with them or - more likely - blend in with them. He had a tenuous alliance with Larrin and her Travelers for transport from planet to planet when he needed it, if the Gate network wasn’t an option, and she agreed not to tell Sheppard about him because she liked having one over on Atlantis, but Aiden knew he needed stronger alliances, just in case things went sideways.  
  
“Out of the darkness the gods came, floating and swimming and walking and flying, growing and growing and growing.” The storyteller fluttered her hands, and the green cloth rippled, and then she picked up a small box and opened it, and a sound like a lion’s roar echoed out of it for a second before she closed it.  
  
Interesting tech. Looked primitive, but was basic sound-capture. Could be useful in the field for misdirecting enemies and pursuers.  
  
“The gods shaped the world, raising the mountains, parting the seas.” The storyteller’s hands traced lines and curves in the air, and she had lovely hands.  
  
Aiden had not yet encountered a planet that didn’t fall into either the Wraith- or the Ancestor-worshiping camp. Even if the natives weren’t devout, they acknowledged the former greatness of one or the other. This was the first time he’d heard talk of power besides the Ancients. He couldn’t tell if it was myth or real, like the Ancients had been. After all, Atlantis had been a myth to him all growing up.  
  
He’d seen the reality, and it had been home, and then it had burned him and cast him aside.  
  
He didn’t worship the Ancients, and he didn’t worship the Wraith, and he wasn’t looking to worship anyone or anything else, but if the Satedans had improved technology, he was looking to get his hands on some of that.  
  
“When the fields needed clearing, the gods called the lightning and fire down from the sky.” The storyteller lit a candle. It sparked before going out, like a trick birthday candle. “When the fields were dry and parched, the gods brought rain.” The storyteller flicked water droplets into the air.  
  
“When enemies came, the gods fought them.” The storyteller unstoppered a glass bottle, and for a brief moment the air was thick with the scent of blood.  
  
That would be useful in the field too.  
  
“And when the people of Sateda had grown strong and wise, the gods returned to the darkness, sank down in sleep, and left remnants of their gifts - their strength, their speed, their healing, their mind-voices - with the people, so they could always protect themselves. The gods promised to rise again if Sateda needed them. And now the gods have come home.”  
  
The storyteller ended her tale with a flourish, flung her green cloth up in the air. It seemed to hover there, for just a second, and Aiden thought he saw an iridescent pattern woven into the green square, of a giant feline, like a leopard or a jaguar. Then the storyteller snatched the cloth out of the air and bowed. When she held the cloth out again next, it was cupped like a sack, and the audience, applauding, tossed coins and trinkets and other valuables into it.  
  
The storyteller bowed one more time, scooped up her storytelling special effects, then turned and headed into the crowded marketplace.  
  
Aiden followed her.  
  
She moved quickly but calmly, unaware she was being followed, easily distracted by the bright and shiny wares in the stalls she passed, and Aiden had no trouble keeping up with her.  
  
“Ronon!” she cried, and Aiden paused, because the man she was approaching was tall and broad and strong and looked like he could crush Aiden with one hand.  
  
“Marita, stop bringing us your money,” Ronon said. “We don’t need it.”

“I know you do not, because you are gods, but I wish to worship -”  
  
“Jiminy Cricket,” said the man beside Ronon, and Aiden froze.  
  
That was an Earth reference.  
  
“Marita, for the last time, we are not gods. We’re just people who want to help, okay?”  
  
“But - but you have the gift -”  
  
“Still not gods,” the man said, and Aiden scrambled to get closer, to see, but the man was shorter than Ronon by a good margin. “You haven’t been telling people that story, have you?”  
  
“What story?” Ronon asked.  
  
“The whole _long before the birth of light, there was darkness_ shtick,” the other man said, and there it was again, another clearly Earth-based term.   
  
“But it’s my best story.” Marita pouted. “Now that I have your roar, it is perfect.”  
  
“My roar?” the man echoed. “Ronon, talk some sense into her. I need to have a clear head if I want to deal with Hendon to get some more flax-seed. Isis knows Teyla was always better at this than I was.”  
  
Teyla.  
  
That man was from Atlantis. Aiden reached for his weapon instinctively, but then Ronon said, “We don’t need her. We have you. You and I are all we need.”  
  
Aiden edged forward through the crowd, and he saw Ronon lean down - and kiss the other man. Aiden’s inner soldier flinched at the sight of them, because regs, but then he realized he recognized them. He’d seen Ronon before, on that planet when Sheppard almost got him. The Wraith had been tracking Ronon, who was now clean-shaven but had the same thick dreadlocks. The other man was the soldier who’d been with Rodney. Aiden had stunned him.  
  
Why would the Satedans think they were gods? They looked like civilian warriors at this point, wearing leather vests and pants and heavy boots, both clearly armed but non-threatening.   
  
“Talk to Marita, would you?” the soldier said. “I’m off to meet Hendon.” He turned and headed through the crowd. Aiden was torn. Follow him, or stick with Ronon?  
  
“Have I offended Evan?” Marita asked in a low voice.  
  
“No,” Ronon said. “He just doesn’t understand what he means to you. But he’s right, we’re not gods. We are descended from them, yes, but we are soldiers of Sateda first and foremost. So maybe try some new stories.”  
  
“I don’t know many new stories,” Marita said. “But I know the story of Major Sheppard and the Wraith!”  
  
Ronon’s gaze darkened. “I’ll have Evan teach you some new stories. Come on, Marita. Your sisters are probably worried about you.” He put an arm around her shoulders and led her away, and Aiden wondered what would make this man Evan call himself a soldier of Sateda when he was obviously from Atlantis and Earth.  
  
He had to find out.  
  


*

  
“Explain again,” Woolsey said.  
  
John gritted his teeth. “I’ve already explained it a dozen times.”  
  
Woolsey folded his hands. “I have yet to hear an explanation that begins to justify your stabbing Major Lorne and ordering him thrown into the brig with his wound untreated and then ordering the Marines to throw Ronon into the brig as well.”  
  
John took a deep breath, closed his eyes.  
  
Rodney itched to reach out to him, either mentally or physically, and try to offer him some comfort, but he had no idea what to say, and frankly, he agreed with Woolsey. He sneaked a glance at Teldy, whose expression was unreadable. Keller looked spooked, but then she looked spooked at pretty much every instance of non-human physiology (except Wraith, which fascinated her). Carson pressed his lips into a thin line, unhappy. Rodney wondered if John had noticed that Dr. Murase, the base psych, was in the room too, taking quiet notes on her datapad.  
  
“Long before the birth of light, there was darkness,” John began, and Woolsey shook his head.  
  
“I’m not asking for a recitation of epic poetry, Colonel. I want to know why Major Lorne, who has an exemplary service record - when he’s not being possessed or otherwise manipulated by alien entities - is such a threat to Atlantis that you felt the need to teach a third of the expedition pyrokinesis to combat him.”  
  
“It’s damn useful against the Wraith,” John said, which was originally why Rodney had wanted to learn it, but the near-constant wail of the fire alarms was getting on everyone’s nerves.

“Major Lorne and Ronon Dex have been nothing but loyal since they set foot on this city,” Woolsey said. “What could possibly justify them being treated as threats on par with the Wraith?”  
  
“Their very existence, sir,” John said.   
  
“You have been aware of what species Major Lorne is since he joined the expedition,” Woolsey said. “What has changed that suddenly makes him a threat?”  
  
“He can do magic.”  
  
“He’s been able to do magic all along and hasn’t done anything remotely harmful to Atlantis, not even when he was under the influence of alien entities,” Woolsey pointed out.  
  
John’s hands curled into fists. “Ronon and Evan are calling themselves gods. Surely those of you who were with the SGC before Atlantis know what happens when monsters decide they’re gods.”  
  
Rodney remembered how Evan had told him he was a monster. _We all are, every one of us with night in our veins._

He remembered the way Evan had hinted at doing horrible things in his past. _I can sit next to a man and listen to him scream and starve and not give in when he asks for food, no matter how prettily he begs. I joined the Forsaken Pack when I was twelve, like every good little Lorne before me. And I hunted. And I killed. And I killed and I killed and I killed._ Rodney remembered the terrible blankness in Evan’s voice. _And in every shifter who died, I saw my own face._ Remembered the bleakness, too. _We’re our own damn kapos._ Evan had the potential to be very dangerous. Rodney had no doubt about that. But he didn’t believe that Evan was a threat, saw himself as a god.

But maybe he could learn to.  
  
 _On Sateda, we were gods._  
  
We.  
  
“You weren’t there, sir,” John said. “You couldn’t begin to understand.”  
  
“You weren’t there either,” Woolsey said.  
  
“No,” John agreed, “but I’ve spoken to those who were.”  
  
Woolsey raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Vampires can live forever, and some of them have lived for a very long time,” John said quietly. “And the things they saw, what Evan’s kind can do -”  
  
“Major Lorne is not the rest of his kind,” Teyla said.  
  
“No,” John agreed. “He’s a hundred times more dangerous.”  
  
Woolsey glanced at Murase, who shook her head ever so slightly. Woolsey took a deep breath, steepled his hands. Then he said, “Colonel Sheppard, I am relieving you of command. Major Teldy, you are the interim commander of Atlantis effective immediately. Have nominations for a second-in-command to me by the end of business tomorrow.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Teldy said.  
  
Rodney tensed, waiting for John to explode like he had at Evan, but John just bowed his head. “You’re going to regret this,” he said quietly.  
  
“For all our sakes, let’s hope not.” Woolsey nodded to Teldy, who lifted a hand to her radio, and several Marines came into the office. John went with them placidly, and he didn’t look at anyone as he left the room.  
  
As soon as the door was closed, Woolsey slumped back in his chair. “Has he lost his mind?”  
  
“He’s not wrong about the past,” Carson said. “When the dragon shapeshifters ruled the world, it was horrible for humans and witches alike. But the dragons are long buried, and we have, for the most part, coexisted with each other well. Not everyone subscribes to Sheppard’s view of the world.”  
  
“Thank you,” Woolsey said. “You’re dismissed.”  
  
As they left his office, Teldy hurried to catch up with Carson, had more questions for him about the Night World, since she’d never paid too much attention to anything beyond the basics.  
  
Rodney turned to Teyla. “I don’t know what to do.”  
  
She put a hand on his shoulder. “Nor do I.”


End file.
